Something Missing
by StorySmall
Summary: Something very important is missing when the bus pulls up in front of the Mystery Shack, and nobody in Gravity Falls is quite the same without it.
1. One

I wasn't expecting much, but when that old bus pulled up in front of the Mystery Shack, it was a sad sight to see when the little 12-year old girl stepped off all by herself. She had an ugly green hat on her head, a duffel bag in one hand, and an overstuffed plush sheep in the other. When she got off the bus, she just stood there, like she had nowhere to go, and nobody cared.

"Mabel?" I called. The girl looked up at me. She reminded me of her mother at that age, the soft brown hair that reached down to her waist and the big chocolate eyes, but unlike her mother, there was no sparkle in those eyes. Instead they looked sad, almost pleading for something, something she knew no one could giver her.

"Uncle Stan?" She asked in a voice I wasn't sure was wary or weary.

"Yep, that's me, call me your Grunkle," I said brightly, which felt awkward in front of her, "'Cuz I'm your great uncle, and when you put them together, eheh, yeah."

Her face didn't change, and I only felt more and more strange standing before her as there was an uncomfortable silence between us.

"Is it just you?" I asked. It seemed strange to see just her there, it felt like something was missing, "No siblings or anything?"

"No," she said, holding her stuffed toy tighter to her body, "I'm an only child."


	2. How Very Strange

There was something uncomfortable about having the girl around. Stan couldn't put it in words, but everything about his niece made him itch. She rarely spoke a word, and she moved through the house like a ghost. One minute she'd be there, and the next she'd be gone, and Stan never heard a sound. It came almost as a relief to him that she spent most of her time in the attic bedroom. He knew from the start he wouldn't enjoy having a kid around, but this was most certainly not what he expected. He expected her to run around, get in the way, and talk his ear off. One would think the silence would be preferable, but to Stan, something just didn't feel right.

Then there were her questions; her horrible questions that made Stan ridiculously nervous. Mabel would never talk, except out of the blue with the most shiver-inducing questions she could have asked. She would ask him if he thought she was crazy, or if he was going to send her away. Stuff that had never crossed his mind, but now kept him up at night wondering what the heck was wrong with that girl.

Perhaps he should have expected so much. Perhaps he should have taken a hint when her parents had called to ask if she could stay the summer in the first place. All the talk of her being "special" and that she "acts sort of strange". Stan kicked himself for not seeing what was laid right in front of him. He wanted to call up her parents right now and ask for a straightforward answer: Is she crazy?

"No," Stan told himself over and over, "no she's not crazy, she's just...special." Dang, now he sounded like her parents.

"Everything's fine," he would say aloud, "Everything is fine." Stan was used to living alone, but when Mabel was around, he'd begun to develop a desperate need to say something out loud; just to break the silence, which only made things even more uncomfortable for both of them. Even when his niece wasn't in his presence, Stan would murmur aloud, as if her very being in the Mystery Shack created a need for someone to be saying something.

"Gotta stack the cans, save for the apocalypse," Stan muttered to himself as he stored ancient canned goods into a cupboard, his voice making him sound way more frantic than he felt. It was early in the morning, so Mabel wouldn't be up yet, but then again, Stan never quite knew.

"Stack the meat, yeah, sell it big when the world ends," Stan was on the brink of breaking into a sweat just thinking about her. He stacked faster.

"What are you doing?"

Stan's heart leapt in his chest. He spun around, grasping at his chest with one hand and the cupboard for stability with the other.

"Geez kid, you'll give me a heart attack," he gasped, relaxing a little. Little Mabel Pines stood before him, wearing the same hat as when she first arrived and a muted pastel tee shirt and skirt, along with the same stuffed sheep she was always carrying around. She didn't reply to Stan's comment, but stared holes through him as she waited for an answer.

"I'm just saving up food for the apocalypse," Stan explained, stacking more cans, but not turning his back on the girl, "Can't be too careful."

Mabel looked down again, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

"Why don't you get some breakfast or something?" Stan asked, unsure of what she was thinking.

"I already had some," Mabel said in an uninterested tone.

"Oh," Stan said, pausing for a moment, unsure of what to say, "Then why don't you head outside or something, you've been hiding in the attic since you got here. You should get out, meet some people, could be good for you."

Mabel held out her stuffed toy and looked at it.

"Nobody likes me," she said matter-of-factly, "Only you," and she hugged the sheep.

Stan assumed she wasn't talking about him, but about the toy, "I think you should get out, you might surprise yourself."

Mabel didn't reply.

"Anyway," Stan said, shutting the cupboard door, "I should be getting ready, first batch of tourists should show up soon," he said with a wink in his tone.

Mabel only turned and proceeded to silently leave the room and ascend the stairs to the attic.

Stan breathed a sigh. What was he going to do with that girl?

xxxxx

Mabel lay on her stomach under her bed, snuggling her sheep toy under her chin. The attic wasn't much to look at: there was her pink bed with her things at the end, and another blue bed across the room, but it was covered in boxes, much like the rest of the room. Not like she needed the space, she wasn't going to do anything with it anyway. As a matter of fact, she rather liked having all the storage lying around. Unbeknownst to her uncle, Mabel enjoyed killing time by looking through all the boxes and closets, and making forts out of cardboard and sheets. The room was covered in her little hideouts, some better disguised than others. In one or two of her forts, Mabel could crawl inside and Stan would walk right by her, completely unaware of her presence.

Mabel kind of liked it at the Mystery Shack, at least compared to home. She loved all the boxes and forts of course, but then it was also good to be away from school and people in general. Her uncle was nice enough; he didn't ask a bunch of questions or force her to do anything. It seemed both of them liked to be left alone, and that he was only trying to start conversations to be polite, which wasn't so bad. He talked to her about normal things like school, hobbies, and what she thought about the Shack, which was actually a nice change from the excessively personal questions she usually received, and for that, Mabel tried to return the favor and ask questions in return, but she wasn't sure how much her uncle enjoyed it.

Mabel's train of thought was broken when she noticed a tiny creature crawling along the wooden floor. Mabel shifted her position so she could scoop it up in her palm. She loved bugs and spiders, mostly because they were so small and were content to crawl around between her fingers. Mabel could identify a good number of the little beasts, but this particular creature was unfamiliar to her. Upon closer investigation she found it wasn't an insect at all, but it more resembled a tiny mushroom with a pair of feathery legs and arms. Mystified, Mabel watched as it strolled on her palm, it's textured limbs tickling her hand. She brought it closer to her face, gazing in wonder at the curious creature. At that moment the little mushroom turned and realized the comparatively gigantic face staring down at it. It's black bead eyes went wide and it began to scurry frantically around her palm. Mabel quickly lowered her hand to the ground at the creature jumped lightly off and disappeared in a crack in the floor. Mabel stared at the place where it disappeared for a good long time, a fascinated smile slowly forming at her lips, but then there was a gentle knocking at the door.

"Um, hello?" Said an unfamiliar voice, muffled through the door. The door was slowly pushed open, and Mabel silently crawled on her stomach to see who was coming in. A rather large man, dressed in a pair of shorts, a baseball cap, and a shirt with the Mystery Shack question mark logo on it peered through the opening in the doorway. "Mabel?" he said tentatively.

"Yes?" Mabel replied, still out of sight under the bed.

"Oh, uh," The man was obviously confused as he glanced around the room in an attempt to locate the source of the voice, "I'm Soos, we haven't met, but uh, Mr. Pines asked if I would tell you he wanted us to go hang up some signs together. So yeah, here I am...where are you?"

"I'm right here," Mabel said quietly, snaking her way out from under the furniture.

"Are you a ghost or something? 'Cuz I can't quite see you," Soos asked, not noticing her as she moved.

Mabel stood up and Soos jumped a little when he saw her, but then he relaxed.

"Oh good," he said, wiping his brow, "You never really know in this town."

Mabel looked down at the place where she saw the mushroom man disappear.

"Really?" She asked, "What have you seen?"


	3. Filling Gaps, Finding Things

"-and the mailman, pretty sure he's a werewolf," Soos explained as he hammered a nail into the first tree. Mabel handed him a Mystery Shack sign and he placed it on the nail, letting it dangle. "All sorts of crazy stuff happens in this town. You can never know what will happen next."

Mabel didn't reply, but her expression turned thoughtful.

"Pass me another nail, would ya?" Soos asked, offering an open palm.

Mabel slowly lifted the box of nails to within Soos' reach, careful not to drop her stuffed sheep out from under her arm.

"Probably should have left that at home," Soos said, nodding at the toy, "It's a nice sheep, wouldn't want to get it dirty."

Mabel shook her head, "I take him with me everywhere...just in case."

"In case of what?"

Mabel shrugged uncomfortably and looked away.

Soos rammed the next nail into the tree and Mabel handed him another sign.

"Does everyone here believe that stuff?" she asked quietly.

"What, these signs? Most tourists will believe anything they read."

"No, I mean the vampires and things."

"Oh, no," Soos said, as he straightened the sign on the tree, "Stan doesn't, Wendy doesn't, most of the people I know don't, but I know there are some people around here who do."

Soos hit the next nail into the tree, but instead of lodging in to the wood, it bent backwards with a loud metallic _clang_.

xxxxx

Stan was beginning to worry, which was quite unlike him. He sent Soos out to do odd jobs all the time, and he knew the kid could handle himself, but Soos just happened to have his unusual niece with him and was taking a good long time to come back. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to send them out just like that. It's not like they were familiar with each other, and he had no idea how Soos would respond to her, or her to him. Who knows what they were doing now? Maybe he should-

Stan's worrying was interrupted with the back door slamming shut.

"Sorry!"

Stan was relieved to hear the voice of his only handyman calling from the back entry. It took some restraint for the old man not to dash right over. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Soos and Mabel standing in the living room.

"Where have you been?" He asked after clearing his throat, "I've been...um...impatient?" He said the last word as a question.

"Well, we definitely weren't hanging signs and then happened to stumble across a secret compartment with a mysterious journal inside full of potentially dangerous secrets that we swore not to tell anyone about." Soos said quickly. Mabel stared hard at him. "Well, except for the sign part of course, we- we did that."

Stan blinked a few times then shook his head, "Yeah, okay. Just try not to take so long next time."

Mabel quickly took Soos' arm and led him away towards the stairs, much to her uncle's surprise.

"Hey, where are you two going?" he shouted after them.

"Upstairs," Mabel said plainly, and the attic door clicked shut behind her.

Stan furrowed his brow as he stared up the stairs where she and Soos had disappeared. At last, he shook his head thoughtfully and turned away.

xxxxx

Stan glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was nearly noon, and Mabel and Soos still hadn't come down from the attic. Stan had taken the time to lead a batch of tourists around the Shack, and now as he was taking off his suit coat and shoes, he began to wonder again what on earth those two could be up to. "Hey! Lunch!" Stan shouted in the direction of the stairs. Something landed hard in the attic, then Stan could hear the door creaking open and two sets of feet coming down the stairs. Soos came down the steps first, each step creaking loudly, and Mabel came behind him, almost silent with her toy sheep under her arm as usual.

"What were you two doing up there?" Stan asked casually as he put a microwave bowl of pasta on the table.

"We were reading," Mabel said quickly.

"Yeah, a book," Soos added.

"Must have been quite a story," Stan murmured, "You've been upstairs all morning." He put another bowl in the microwave and punched in a cooking time.

"I'll be heading out then," Soos said, pointing his thumb behind his back, "Grab a snack. Eat."

"You do that," Stan said, "But don't forget to sweep the hallway."

"Sure thing Mr. Pines," Soos said as he left.

Stan sat across from his niece at the table, idly stirring his bowl of macaroni and cheese with his fork.

"So, Mabel," Stan began, "I was thinking. The weather's nice, and a think it's time we did something together, you and me."

Mabel didn't look up from her noodles.

"And I was thinking," Stan continued, "Maybe we could go out and do a little fishing. A little time outside, with just us, the water, some fish, and my joke book. It's be fun!"

"Can Soos come?" came Mabel's immediate response.

"Uh," Stan was surprised, "Yeah I guess so, there's some room in the old Stanowar. Soos can come." He paused. "What about Soos makes you enjoy him so much? I mean, since you meet, this is the first time I've seen you two apart."

Mabel shrugged. "I don't know," she said before taking another bite of macaroni.

Stan watched his niece eat, not helping himself to his own bowl.

"Here," Stan said, pushing his meal away and getting up, "If Soos comes back, tell him he can have mine, I'm not hungry."

"Uncle Stan?" Stan stopped when he heard his name. Mabel looked up at him sideways. She didn't say anything for a minute, but just looked at him, studying him. "Do you not like having me here?" she said at last.

"What? No, I like having you here, it's nice having some family around," Stan said it like he had rehearsed it, and he probably had, "It's just...If you don't want to go fishing, it's fine. It's just that..." Stan stopped his thought and shrugged, "Nevermind, I'll be watching TV if you need anything."

Mabel watched him as he headed into the next room and seated himself on his chair. Mabel slid out of her own seat and went back up the stairs. From under the pillow on the blue bed, she pulled a battered maroon journal. It had a golden six-fingered hand on the cover, with a solid black 3 on the palm. She glanced back at the door as if she expected something to be there, then back at the book. She turned through the yellowed pages, not looking at any page in particular, then she stopped. She pulled the book closer to her face and traced the facing pages with her fingers. These pages were special. Mabel pulled her stuffed sheep up to her cheek and kissed it gently. These pages might be the answer to her problem.


	4. Nothing To See

"Goodbye folks! Remember, we put the 'fun' in 'no refunds'!" Stan waved as a batch of tourists climbed into the tour bus. He continued to wave as the bus coughed up a cloud of smoke and drove away. "Ah yes," Stan said to himself, patting his stuffed pockets, "Business as usual." He walked back up the steps and into the Mystery Shack. It wasn't until he was carefully placing his newly-earned bills in the cash register that he realized something was amiss.

"Hey Mr. Pines, where do you want these?" Soos walked up to the counter, holding a handful of multicolored plastic flowers in one hand and a sponge in the other.

"Soos, where's Mabel?" Stan asked as he shut the register.

"Mabel? Haven't seen her all day," Soos answered, "But I think she's in the attic."

"Really? I figured you two were off doing something all this morning," Stan said, puzzled.

"No, not at all, I was cleaning the hallway," Soos explained.

"Alright, stay with that," Stan said, standing up, "And go ahead and put those flowers in the garden, make it convincing."

Stan made his way up the stairs, his feet making surprisingly little sound on the creaky wood, but upstairs, the sound of something hollow and metal hit the floor.

"Mabel? Are you in there?" Stan knocked on the door leading to her room. Behind the door, there was a sudden burst of noise; things hitting the ground and sliding across the floor, and something like a blanket being thrown. Stan went ahead and opened the door, and the noise stopped, but Mabel was nowhere to be seen among the boxes and blanket forts.

"Hello?" Stan called.

Mabel stood up from behind a sheet wall, with her arms behind her back.

"Oh, hey," Stan said awkwardly, "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," Mabel muttered, looking away.

Stan glanced around the room. "Building more forts? They're not half bad."

"Thanks," Mabel said softly.

"Um, well, you haven't been downstairs all day- at least, at least not to my knowledge- and I was just wondering what you were doing."

Mabel shrugged. "Nothing really," she said.

"Do you uh, want to do something? That fishing trip offer is still open."

"No thanks," Mabel said as she picked her toy sheep up off the floor, "I don't really like boats and stuff."

Stan tried not to look disappointed, "Yeah okay, have fun I guess," and he closed the door.

Mabel remained standing a few seconds after he left and listened as his footsteps creaked down the stairs. When she was sure Stan was gone, she knelt back down behind her forts and pulled up a blanket wall on the nearest one. Under the safety of the blankets was the old journal she and Soos had found in the woods. Mabel opened the pages quickly, and the book opened to a set of pages which were bent from the covers being closed too fast. She gently flattened out the creases, page by page. When the paper was straight, Mabel set the book down, the covers still open, then opened another fort which was full of miscellaneous objects such as tin cans, cardboard boxes, and old books. On the floor to her left, some of the objects were unstably assembled to form a sort of arched shape. Some of the parts were scattered on the floor under the corner of a blanket, the result of having a blanket thrown hastily over it. Mabel sighed and laid the cover back on top of it. She closed the forts and tucked her sheep under her arm.

Stan reclined in his chair with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, the television flashing a noisy slapstick cartoon. To be perfectly honest, he was a little disappointed his niece had chosen not to come fishing with him, although he had to admit he hadn't expected her to. Sure, he was uncomfortable around her, but that was something he wanted to change. She seemed comfortable enough around Soos, and maybe she could warm up to him. Maybe they could play a card game or something. What do incredibly shy unsociable 12 year olds like doing?

"Uncle Stan?"

Stan jumped a little and turned towards the stairs.

"Do you have any glue I could use?" Mabel asked as she walked down the stairs.

"Glue? Yeah, in the shelf above the fishtank," Stan said, pointing over his shoulder, "What do you need glue for?"

"Nothing," Mabel said, heading into the kitchen and dragging a chair into the living room.

"Can you reach that? Need a hand?"

Mabel stood on the chair and reached up the the shelf, her short reach coming nowhere near the shelf. "I can't," she muttered.

"Here, let me," Stan said, getting up. Mabel stepped off the chair and Stan reached up to towards the glue, not quite able to reach it.

"Ugh... almost... got it," Stan said through his teeth.

"You can use the chair," Mabel commented, pushing it closer.

"No way, standing on furniture is incredibly dangerous, there are a million statistics I could list about how bad of an idea it is," Stan said quickly, "Here, just let me boost you up."

Stan lifted Mabel up from under her arms and she reached in and grabbed the glue bottle.

"Thanks," Mabel said as Stan put her down.

"C'mon tell me, what's the glue for?" Stan pushed.

"Just a little project, it's nothing," Mabel said stubbornly.

Stan gazed at her a minute longer, then stepped out of her way, "Yeah okay, sorry." Mabel walked around him went back up the stairs. Stan rubbed his neck and sat back in his chair.

"Hey dudes! I found something!" Soos' voice came from somewhere down the hall. Mabel immediately came back down the stairs and went down the hallway. Stan sighed and followed after her.

"Dudes check it out, I was washing the baseboards, and I found some kind of secret room, it's way spooky!"

Stan's memory was sparked as soon as he saw where the hidden door was. "The old wax museum!" Stan exclaimed, stepping inside the room.

xxxxx

Mabel sat cross-legged on the attic floor, with her curious construction before her. She was barely awake, and she had been working on glueing the same two bits of tin and paper together for the past half hour. At last she stood up and stretched. She carefully laid a blanket over her project, which was now shaped like half a giant macaroni noodle, and crawled carefully towards her bed, between and under her forts. She pulled herself into the bed and snuggled up on the pillow, holding her sheep tightly to her chest. "Good night," she whispered. Mabel was just dozing off when she heard a familiar voice scream from downstairs.

Mabel shot up in her bed, her vision blurring as she stumbled onto the floor. "Uncle Stan?" she shouted, throwing the door open and running down the stairs. "Uncle Stan, are you okay?"

Stan's voiced replied with a weaker, "AaaahaAAhah!"

Mabel looked quickly around the corner, relieved to see her great uncle in one piece, but at the same time her eyes widened when she saw what had her uncle in such a panic. Lodged in his chair right where his head would have been, was an axe.

* * *

AN: Thanks to everyone for all the feedback!

(As you can see) Some of the episodes will be featured in this story, but a lot of them will be cut out for multiple reasons:

1. Dipper's absence (Fight Fighters, Dipper vs. Manliness)

2. Mabel's change in behavior (Gnomes, Gobblewonker)

3. To keep the story moving and focused on the non-episode-based storyline.

This story is not just Mabel going through season 1 without her brother, there's much more to it. I can't wait to share!

Thanks again! You all are the best!


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